Gemotions

David’s hand tightened around the steering wheel as he turned onto Dr. Harold “Hacksaw” Hanson’s street. The irony was almost unbearable. The man who made his life a misery with an endless string of pranks and taunts was now a counselor of some sort. He parked, a lightness coursing through his body.

He bounced out of the car, practically skipping across the perfectly manicured lawn. He strode towards the front door with a deliberate energy. He knocked, a sharp, crisp rap. The door swung open and there was Harold, looking… older. David’s grin widened.

"Harold! Just thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing with your… healing.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you could give me a session? I've got a lot of… *history*."